


Reunion

by Cyberwulf



Category: 'Allo 'Allo!
Genre: F/M, Family Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 20:53:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20297776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyberwulf/pseuds/Cyberwulf
Summary: Decades after the war, Lieutenant Gruber unexpectedly crosses paths with an old friend.





	Reunion

Helga could not decide what was more amusing – the look of rapture on her husband’s face as he spotted an old and very dear friend, or that his cry of “Hubert Junior!” caused both her son and grandson to turn around.

“Dad?” her son asked, but Old Hubert’s attention was entirely focused on the exhibit in front of him.

“Oh, Helga, it _is_ Hubert Junior!” he exclaimed joyfully, reaching out to brush his fingers against the paintwork. He turned excitedly to both of the younger Huberts. “It was this very tank which I drove around France during the war. We winged an RAF spyplane together, you know.” He sighed, his wistfulness infecting Helga too – how _young_ they had both been then, all those years ago. “What a relief that he was not melted down for scrap. My old friend…”

“You named me after your _tank_.”

Their son was standing ramrod straight, his face a perfect match for his father at his most imperious. Old Hubert fidgeted under his stare.

“Well…”

Middle Hubert now turned his glare on Helga. “You _named me_ after his tank.”

Helga was not so easily discomfited. “Of course,” she replied, threading her arm through her husband’s. “I knew how much Hubert Junior and his predecessor meant to your father. It is an honour to be named after such a faithful little tank. Besides, we had our first date in Hubert Junior.”

Little Hubert, who had been singularly uninterested in the manly weapons and machinery on display, suddenly began to pay attention. “Really?”

“…Really?” his grandfather echoed in confusion.

“Grandpa gave me a lift in his little tank and permitted me to manipulate the gears from third to top,” Helga explained. “This was quite a rare honour.”

Little Hubert’s face lit up and he clasped his hands together in front of him. The action drew an uneasy glance from his father. “Oh, how romantic!”

“Ah yes,” Old Hubert replied with a nod. “Though that was not _this_ Hubert Junior, it was the first Hubert Junior…” He squirmed a little at the painful memory. “…who was most cruelly blown up by an exploding safe.” He put his arm around Helga and gave her a warm smile. “But yes, I suppose that _was_ our first date.”

“So you married Grandma because she was able to drive your tank?” Little Hubert asked eagerly, practically bouncing on his feet as he awaited more details.

Old Hubert shrugged. “A woman capable of handling complicated machinery is a rare find.” His answer earned him an elbow to the ribs and a smirk from his wife.

“Come,” Helga declared, fishing her camera from her hand bag. “I will take a picture of all the Huberts together.”

Her son, who was now looking rather shamefaced, objected, “We are not allowed to take pictures.”

“That has never stopped me before,” Helga replied. She stepped back and began to line up the shot. “Come along, hurry up!”

Middle Hubert sighed. “Come, Hubert. Let us take a picture with Grandpa Hubert’s little tank, Hubert Junior.” He glanced at his father, beaming in front of the vehicle, and back at his son. “I should have let your mother name you Rutger.”


End file.
